


Learning From The Best

by aban_ataashi



Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Fluff, Gen, just some cute family bonding, oc-tober 2020, way pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26762470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aban_ataashi/pseuds/aban_ataashi
Summary: A young future adventurer takes her first steps on the path to becoming an alchemist.
Kudos: 3





	Learning From The Best

“You set your school on _fire?”_

Myrcelle looked up at her father with wide eyes, her hands clasped behind her back, desperately trying to portray as much innocence and regret and _I-didn’t-mean-to_ as her seven-year-old body could muster. “It wasn’t the whole school. Just my desk. And just a _little_ one.”

Arthur Primm sighed heavily, leaning against his worktable as he did so. Myrcelle watched nervously, knowing that whatever happened next would be an indicator of just how much trouble she was in. So far it wasn’t looking good- her father had removed the thick glasses from his eyes and was rubing his temples, which he only did when he was very tired or when he was about to ‘have a talk’ with one of his children. He was quiet for a while, his eyes still closed, and Myrcelle quietly considered simply tiptoeing out of the workshop before he could remember to lecture her.

But then she’d have to go through the front of the shop where her mother was, and her mother’s talks were _way_ scarier than her father’s. That was why she’d come straight through the backroom of the apothecary after school. She’d have to face her mother eventually- Callum would surely tattle on her before the day was out- but hopefully her father would see her side by then. After all, he was the one who had experience with things like experimenting and inventing and accidently setting things on fire, so maybe he’d be a little more understanding.

At last, Arthur took a deep breath in, put his glasses back on, and gave Myrcelle a patient look. “ _Why_ did you set your desk on fire?”

Myrcelle huffed and cross her arms, forgetting for a moment to look pitiful. “Well, it wasn’t on _purpose.”_ Her tail flicked behind her in irritation as she remembered trying to explain that to her teacher, with very little success. “I was trying to make alchemist’s fire, like you do! And I thought I did it right and I was just gonna show it to my friends. Except…I guess I did it wrong because it didn’t stay in the bottle like it’s supposed to. But I didn’t know it was gonna explode right in the middle of Miss Harp’s lesson!”

Arthur blinked, surprise taking over the stern disappointment as he listened to Myrcelle’s story. “Alchemist’s fire? Myrcelle, you know you’re not supposed to touch the dangerous things in here.”

That much was true, Myrcelle had to admit. She’d been helping her father in the apothecary since she could walk, and she was allowed to help mix healing potions and simple tonics. And that could be fun- the apothecary was her favorite place in the world, with its endless rows of neatly organized elements, the comforting heat of the fires, the smell of dozens of simmering mixtures.

But Myrcelle quickly realized that the stuff she was actually allowed to touch was _so boring_ compared to what her father made for the adventurers who came to the store- things like explosives and acid bombs and liquid fire! She was supposed to learn how to do that kind of stuff when she was older, but it was really, _really_ hard to wait that long when all the ingredients were sitting right there on the shelf, just begging to turned into something magical.

“I just wanted to see if I could do it,” she said earnestly, hoping beyond hope that her father would know what she meant. Butterflied danced nervously in her stomach as she waited for his reaction.

Arthur tilted his head and studied her through those thick glasses, not saying a word- until, to Myrcelle’s surprise and relief, he shook his head and chuckled. “Well, you are certainly your father’s daughter.”

Myrcelle grinned, her remorse quickly evaporating as it seemed she would not be getting yelled at- not right now, anyway. “Try telling Miss Harp that. _She_ says I get into trouble all the time ‘cause I have devil’s blood.”

For a fraction of a second, Arthur’s brow furrowed, and he suddenly looked very angry after all. But the look was gone too quickly for Myrcelle to be sure, replaced with her father’s usual patient expression as she said firmly, “You get into trouble because you don’t follow the rules _._ Blood’s got nothing to do with it, and if your teacher is still saying that then maybe your mother should go have a talk with her.”

The image of Liana Primm delivering one of the lectures she usually reserved for her children to one of their teachers made Myrcelle giggle. She bounced on her toes, all traces of sorrow completely forgotten now that her father seemed to surely be on her side.

“So why didn’t my fire work?” she asked, her focus shifting to what she felt was truly important about the day’s catastrophe. “How do you get yours to stay in the bottle?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “When you were pilfering my stores for flammables, did you think to grab a stabilizing solution?”

“A what?”

In lieu of answer, Arthur turned to a shelf of bottles and took down one of the bright orange vials of Alchemist’s Fire. Myrcelle couldn’t keep the smile from her face as he held it up, the bright orange liquid shimmering like a jewel in the firelight. And most noticeably, _not_ bubbling and broiling like hers had ended up doing.

“If you really want to learn, I can teach you,” Arthur said. “But you _have_ to follow the instructions. No doing it by yourself, no taking bottles to school. Can you handle that?”

“Yes! Yes I can, I promise!” Myrcelle said eagerly, hardly able to keep still as she processed this exciting new development. “Can I start learning now?”

“ _Myrcelle!”_

The sound of Liana Primm’s voice caused both Myrcelle and her father to jump. Her father shot her a guilty look as he gently put the bottle away. “Later, I think. As happy as I am that you’re excited to learn, I think you’re also grounded.”

 _Dang it, Callum,_ Myrcelle thought grumpily. Her brother was _such_ a tattletale.

“ _Myrcelle, get in here now!”_

Myrcelle sighed and headed to the storefront. She knew she was in for a _long_ lecture, and probably a whole month of extra chores. But at least she would have the image of the bright orange fire and the anticipation of her father’s recipes to keep her spirits up.


End file.
